


Fuqboi

by The_Onyx_Moon



Series: From the Outside [8]
Category: The Bronze (2015)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Sexting, Smut, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-05 04:46:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19041409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Onyx_Moon/pseuds/The_Onyx_Moon
Summary: In a moment of weakness, you give into the very man you’d been denying.  Man, why hadn’t you done this before?





	Fuqboi

**Author's Note:**

> Why have I stuck with voyeurism as a theme during this celebration?? I mean, not that I’m like complaining or anything…

_*beep beep bee-beep*_

You groan, tossing your legs off of your bed with far too much attitude at the sound of your Kim Possible text tone sounding from across the room.  You’d lost count of how many texts he’d sent you, and honestly, after this one, you were tempted to either change your text tone or silence the phone entirely.

_Hey gorgeous u up?_

Seriously?  He couldn’t even spell out ‘you’?

Flipping the ringer to silent, you toss the phone back down and fall into bed to return to your book.  After about five minutes, your open laptop pings with a Facebook notification - a message.

Lance again.

_C’mon, beautiful.  I just wanna see that smile ;)_

You roll your eyes, placing your bookmark to return to later.  If he wasn’t going to leave you alone, you may as well just text back...

 _I don’t believe that for a second Tucker._  You type, fighting the smirk on your lips.  _You’re far more interested in my tits._

The typing animation shows up instantly, replaced seconds later with his response.

_I mean...I wouldn’t turn down a picture of those beauties..._

“Aaaand there's the classic Tucker.”

* * *

You’d met Lance Tucker via your work friend Hope.  The foul-mouthed little woman had reluctantly introduced you one day when he’d swept into the studio to see how Hope was coming along with training the older girls.

You specialized in the little tykes, so he had never really given you a second glance.  That is until Hope jabbed her thumb towards you while explaining something to him.  You’ happened to be bent over to help one of your girl’s form.

It gave him a prime view of your ass.

He hasn’t let up with his shameless flirting since.  Even when moms are in the studio asking you about their kids.

Sure, the guy was gorgeous, but he was the very definition of fuqboi.

He was harmless enough, only ever hitting on you in the gym.  On the off chance that you ran into him at the grocery store, he’d flash you a smile and tell you to keep up with whatever it was you were doing cuz  _‘damn is it working!’_

You weren’t quite sure what to make of that...

 Things only changed after Tinder...

One late, wine-fueled lonely evening, you’d unlocked your phone and pulled up that long unopened app that you only ever scoured after a failed date or a rather depressing talk with your mom that ‘ _no, you hadn’t found a man yet._ ’  This night had been the later and after a few minutes of swiping, you almost swallowed your tongue from gasping so hard.

There, _shirtless_ , was Lance Tucker.

Good god, he was gorgeous.  Carved from fucking marble.  Not that you’d ever tell him and inflate that already big-as-a-house ego.  His Instagram was flooded with pictures of half-naked selfies, over flexed beach shots, and gym pictures.  His  ~~plump~~  lips were always slightly puckered, head tilted to the side and full of hashtags to cushion the likes.

After drooling over his pictures for far too long, you’d returned to the Tinder app and - boosted by the liquid courage you’d chugged - swiped right.

You hadn’t really expected anything from it, maybe a match but nothing more.  Just another pretty boy on Tinder who swiped on everything with tits and stopped messaging once it was made clear you wouldn’t sleep with him right away.

You’d been wrong.

Almost daily, he messaged you and at first, it’d been pretty innocent.  Sure, there was some flirting here and there but it was only after he asked for your number that the texting got more forward.

He asked you on a date, on you eagerly agreed to.  Only after the date did you figure out that he was as vain and superficial as his profile depicted and you decided to leave it at that.

He, unfortunately, didn’t.

Pictures.

He’d ask for pictures, and though you’d never made good on your promise of ‘maybe later, Tucker.’ he didn’t stop texting.  Though he was harmless, it did tend to get old.

Tonight was no different.

 _You there, gorgeous?_ His message lights up your screen again, pulling you back to the present.  You type back a  _yeah_  quickly, awaiting his next response.   _Soooo about that smile?_

You roll your eyes with a giggle, typing.

_Yeeees?_

_Lemme see a smile, huh?  It’ll brighten my incredibly dull evening, babe._

Your heart thumps at the pet name, but you remind yourself that he’s probably calling several girls babe and promising them each that they’re the only girl he’s talking to.

_Will you stop at just wanting a smile?_

His response takes a few more moments, but it is so on brand that it isn’t even funny.  Still, you smile.

_Honestly?  Probably not._

After a few moments of deliberating and chewing on your fingernails, you resign yourself with a sigh.

 _Fine._ You type, setting up the camera on your computer.  After several attempted shots, you decide to ditch the laptop altogether and go for your cellphone.  Pleased with the quality of photos now, you select the most innocent one, hit send, then toss the phone down and do your best not to get too giddy.

The buzzing of his answering text has you jump, and you reach for it instantly, cheeks heating when you see he’s sent you a picture back.

He’s smirking, but not his typical self-absorbed smirk.  This one is sweeter, a slight pull of his lips as he stares into the phone camera and those beautiful eyes twinkle with mischief.  It’s actually...kinda cute.  After a few seconds, however, you notice the way his shoulders are peaking up from the bottom of the cropped picture and arch a brow.

_Are you shirtless, Tucker?_

His next photo confirms it - _and_ makes your mouth water.

 _Well, I am in bed..._ accompanies the next picture that has completely panned lower.  His head is distinctly missing in this shot, the smug bastard stretched out and flexing as casually as possible against his silver sheets.

Your heart hammers in your chest, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and...possibly arousal...

_Me too..._

You regret it the second you send it, knowing exactly what is to come from such a text.  His response does nothing to quench the fire burning low in your belly.

_Oh yeah?  Lemme see._

Unsure of what possesses you to do so, you do as he asks and snap a picture.  It’s mostly innocent, just you - legs tucked up under your bottom and after examining it closer, you laugh to yourself.  Your abandoned book lays in the background, but with how your barely covered bottom is peaking out underneath your oversized nightshirt you highly doubt he’ll notice it.

True to your expectations, the book goes unmentioned.

_Damn, baby.  You’re naughtier than I thought._

Rolling your eyes, but not entirely put off, you answer all while biting back a smile.

_Oh, you have no idea._

_No?  How about you show me how naughty you can be..._

Not quite sure what the hell possesses you to do so, you unclip your bra, jiggling it down your arms and tossing it off to the side before you’re grabbing your laptop once more.  This time instead of going to your Facebook, you open the video chat and find his number.

It only rings twice before he answers, his gorgeous face beaming at you.

“Hey, baby, what’re you up to?”  His smile is contagious and you can’t hide your own as he beams back at you from what looks like his desk chair.

“Just showing you how naughty I can be, Tucker.”  You shrug, legs pulled tight and crossed beneath you.  He tugs his bottom lip between his perfect teeth, groaning at the possibilities.

“Oh, _fuck yeah_.”  He’s still shirtless, black runners slung low across his hip bones and that mother fucking tattoo peaks up over the dark material.  He always teased shots of it on his Instagram, sometimes even going as far as to send you peaks of it - but you’d never seen the whole thing or where it ended at.  Your mind swims with possibilities.

The video is crystal clear and you silently thank the wifi gods for little miracles as his abs catch the light just perfectly.  The flicker down of your eyes don’t escape him and he chuckles before leaning back in his chair.

“See something you like, baby?”  He’s stretched taut, those mouthwatering muscles on perfect display as you drink him in.  You nod slowly, biting your own lip as he slips his thumbs into his waistband and lowers the runners ever so slightly.  He stops just short of where you want and he chuckles at your huff.  “What’s wrong, gorgeous?”

He’s baiting you, white teeth blinding you through his perfect smile.  It’s when his hand disappears below the waistline that you find your voice.

“I want to see you.”  You admit sheepishly, wringing your fists in your own shirt.  His eyes flicker down to the flash of color he sees when the cotton retreats just slightly and suddenly his fist is pumping.

“I want to see you too, baby.”  He says, shuddering at his self-made friction, then smiles.  “Why don’t you lose the shirt and I lose the pants, hmm?”

Suddenly you regret losing the bra - having thought you’d just tease him with some flashes of skin and nothing more.  But the thought of seeing him sans pants...

Worth it, you decide.

His eyes flash with hunger at the sight of you half naked before him, forearm draped just over your breasts then linger on the lime green panties that cover what he wants to see most.

“Damn.”  He whistles low, shrugging mellow dramatically as he kicks the chair out from beneath him.  “Time to make good on my part of the bargain, huh?”

He tugs his trousers quickly - boxers coming down with them and before you can stop yourself, your hands are covering your slacked jaw and open mouth at the sight of his hard cock.  If you had any control over your voice right now, you’d comment on the tattoo - about how you can’t believe _that’s_  where it ends - but as it is you’re too fucking turned on to care.

His smirk is all telling, his eyes dropping to your chest and you suddenly gather that he’d been hoping for the shock to get you to uncover your chest.

“Now what should I do?”  His voice is low, liquid velvet as his hands come to rest on the desk before him.  Your eyes are glued to him, how he curls towards his stomach and how his head leaks with pre-cum.  You do your best to ignore the thought that you want to lick it off.  “Baby?”

“Touch yourself.”  You demand, rocking forward onto your knees to lose your own underwear.  He smirks at the action, mumbling a ‘you got it’ before he’s fisting his palm around his length once more.

The moan he utters is panty dropping and sends a fresh wave of wetness between your legs.

“You gonna touch yourself too, baby?”  He asks, fist pumping up and down his thickness.  Your mouth waters and you nod, doing as he asks.  The first touch to your sensitive lips is jolting and you sigh, legs falling open just a little more as he stares you down through the camera.  “There we go, gorgeous.  Show me that pretty pussy.”

His voice dances across your skin, the resulting shivers down your spine.  The man obviously had done this before and you are not complaining.

“How’s that feel?”  He asks, thumb catching across the head.  Your eyes flash down to the sight, watching as he strokes himself closer and closer to climax.

“It feels so good,” you answer, voice light and barely there as you sink first one then two fingers inside your center.  A flitting thought that his fingers would feel so much better.  Or even better than that, his cock.

“Betcha wish it was me touching you, huh?”  A grunt, his eyes fluttering for a moment as his hips chase the pressure of his fist.  “I wish it was you instead of my damn hand.  Wish you were here, down on your knees for me and it was that smart mouth wrapped around my dick.”  He smirks at the whimper you reward him with.  “You like that baby?  Like the thought of me fucking that pretty mouth?”

“Yeah, Lance.  Tell me more.”  Your fingers curl - Lance egging you on with little praises - as your thumb puts the perfect amount of pressure on your clit.  He growls at that.

“You got it, baby.”  He grunts again, fist tightening on his dick as his other hand finds the desk once more and grips for support.  The sight of him losing control over the thought and sight of you...well, you’re not too far behind him.  “I wanna fuck that tight little body, baby.  Wanna hold back those legs and bury myself inside of you until I can feel you cumming around my big dick.”  He groans again, fist working faster - you timing your fingers with his as you chase your own orgasm.  A strangled moan echoes in the room as he reaches up to pinch a nipple and stare like a hungry wolf at you through the screen.  “I wanna bury myself inside of you, and cum in that tight little pussy, Y/N.”

The sound of your name on those lips is enough to send you over the edge, knees clacking as the overcoming pleasure rocks your body so suddenly.  He never calls you by your name - only baby, gorgeous, beautiful - and so the sound of it from a Lance so ruined and wrecked has you cumming in seconds.

The sight of you coming undone is enough for him, and after a few more strokes, he’s spilling across the desk - narrowly missing his keyboard.  He chuckles at that, falling back into the desk chair that he’d abandoned before.  After a few minutes, he speaks.

“By the way,” he pants - strong chest heaving as he attempts to get his breathing under control.  “What’re you reading?”

Your eyes follow to where he nods his head, noting your book had remained unmoved during all of your call.  You giggle, answering as you bring it forward to show him one of your favorite novels.  His face brightens substantially, his desk chair rolling closer as he reaches behind his computer to bring the same book into view.  Suddenly, he’s much more demure.

“It’s one of my favorites.”  He says with a blush, biting that damn lip again and you share a wide, knowing smile and you launch into discussion about the book that changed your lives.

It’s only when he yawns that you realize that the call had been  _two hours l_ ong - and only a small portion of that was spent naked.  He bids you a reluctant goodnight, promising to call you tomorrow before blowing you a kiss and a wink - one you echo with a giggle.

After a few moments of sitting in silence, your smile grows wider as dangerous yet pleasant thoughts run through your mind.

Maybe there was more to Tucker than you’d thought.  Maybe you’d give him a chance.

Maybe, just maybe, something more could come from this...


End file.
